


Dinner In

by chlorineandcoffeestains (AdrenalineRevolver)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:44:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrenalineRevolver/pseuds/chlorineandcoffeestains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>friends who make out</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner In

**Author's Note:**

> Jehan is 18 and Grantaire is 25

“Let’s go on a date. Like a real people, eat at a fancy restraunt, look nice date. But a friendship date. Why can’t people have more friendship dates?” Jehan was leaning against the artist as he drew. He had finished his book but had been too comfortable to move. There was also that lovely feeling you get after you finish a large novel and all the ends come to gather in a perfectly neat victorian fashion to leave you, the reader, satisfied with life and their own existence in it. 

“Now?” Grantaire raised an eyebrow but didn’t look up from his tablet. “Cause I’m not dressed for something like that.”

Jehan shifted on the couch. “So change! I’m bored Grantaire. And I want food.” He rested his chin on the man’s leg and looked at his drawling, a dancer with her hair pulled back in a tight bun. 

“So I’ll make you nice food!” Grantaire finally put down the tablet to look at him, “we can have a nice dinner here.”

Jehan pretended to ponder the suggestion.“Can I use nice plates and candles and shit? I want to make it romantic.”

Grantaire just kissed his head, “of course but you get to clean it up.” It would be nice, just the two of them. 

“And you’ll help,” Jehan said cheerfully and pulled him to his feet. 

The man just groaned and refused to budge, “petulant child.”

“Old man,” Jehan stuck his tongue out. 

“Okay I’m not that old,” Grantaire pulled his hand away and crossed his arms. Jehan pouted. There was no way he could get the artist to move on his own. Bahorel could but he wasn’t there. 

The artist just rolled his eyes and sunk deeper into the old couch. Actually he had no idea how old it was. Feuilly and him had found the thing on the side of the street, cleaned it, reupholstered the thing. “You’re just young.”

Jehan flopped back down on the couch. More of him was on Grantaire than the couch though. He turned to kiss Grantaire. A long lazy kiss where Jehan climbed on top of him and ran his fingers through tangled hair and just revealed in the simple joy of kissing him. 

He pulled away for a moment and rested his forehead on Grantaire’s,“you should shave. I’m getting beard burn.”

Grantaire’s laugh was warm and deep and everything Jehan loved about Friday nights at home in the apartment. “Just kiss me.”


End file.
